


be my sun

by MeeGoreng



Category: Winx Club
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Slow Burn, Swearing, bloom/sky isn't that important, physically fast emotionally slow
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:48:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29460786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeeGoreng/pseuds/MeeGoreng
Summary: Stella has flirted with cute boys in the past. It’s always been a Thing, for her: scan a crowd for any attractive boy who might strike her fancy. She smiles; throws a wink and a meaningful look their way, twirls her hair around her fingers and giggles whenever the boy says something unfunny.This is different.This isn’t just another pretty boy who she’ll smile at and then forget about.
Relationships: Bloom/Sky (Winx Club), Brandon/Stella (Winx Club)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 27





	be my sun

Stella has flirted with cute boys in the past. It’s always been a Thing, for her: scan a crowd for any attractive boy who might strike her fancy. She smiles; throws a wink and a meaningful look their way, twirls her hair around her fingers and giggles whenever the boy says something unfunny.

This is different.

This isn’t just another pretty boy who she’ll smile at and then forget about.

She won’t forget this day for a long, long time. It’s her father’s wedding to Countess Cassandra—that despicable woman—and all she wants is a good drink and a fun flirt, and pretend that this whole thing isn’t happening.

And then _he_ walks in.

It’s the delegation of Eraklyon, if the bright blue flags don’t scream that loudly enough. King Erendor and Queen Samara enter, arm in arm, dressed in the simple, understated fashion that Eraklyon royalty is known for. Behind them enters the Crown Prince Sky, and Stella swears she can hear half the girls in the room swoon at his blinding smile.

But her eyes zero in on the boy next to Sky, and the breath is knocked out of her lungs.

He’s dressed simply, wearing the traditional uniform of the Crown Guard as well as the badge that identifies him as a graduated Specialist. His hair is brown, and while Stella usually doesn’t go for brunettes, the way it casually falls across his face makes her want to card her fingers through the fine strands. His jawline is strong, defined, and she wonders if it would cut her if she caressed it.

Her gaze moves down, and she silently thanks the seamstresses on Eraklyon, because the uniform is _tight_ , and most importantly, it’s sleeveless.

Stella’s mouth goes dry.

This boy—not boy, _man_ —is a paragon of physical fitness. Even from across the ballroom, Stella can see every defined muscle, likely built up from years of dedicated training. Even just walking, his muscles flex under the tight cloth of his uniform, and it leaves nothing to the imagination. Everything down to his ab muscles are visibly defined, wrapped in the stretchy fabric that hugs his frame so dearly.

Stella swallows.

She is entirely certain that this is the most attractive person, male _or_ female, she’s ever seen in her life. (Including herself—and it’s not a secret that Stella can spend hours in front of a mirror perfecting her appearance.) And she knows that she wants to make him hers.

The delegation of Eraklyon walks up to the thrones, and the brown-haired beauty stands at attention as his king, queen and prince step up to the altar.

“King Radius, Queen Consort Cassandra,” King Erendor acknowledges with a bow. “I congratulate you on your marriage, and I’m sure this is a very happy day for you both. You make an excellent match.”

Stella’s father and (unfortunately) stepmother both laugh politely. They begin to exchange meaningless small talk, as royals do, but Stella’s attention has already strayed again. She makes brief eye contact with the crown prince Sky, and they share a grimace. They’ve met before, of course, at various other intergalactic social gatherings, and they’ve always enjoyed a lighthearted friendship. Cute as he is, flirting with Prince Sky isn’t worth the political ramifications, and both of them know this. A union between two royal heirs is just too complicated to deal with, and anyway, Sky is entirely enamoured with a certain red-haired princess of Domino.

Stella once again focuses on the brown-haired beauty—as she’s named him in her head—and her heart flutters. Goodness, he’s _hot_ , and she can already list the things she’d do to him if she could get him alone in a secluded corner. Her nails, raking red lines across his chest, his tongue painting dark bruises on her neck—

She closes her eyes and lets out a deep breath, and tries to banish her thoughts. _Not while you’re sitting on your throne, Stella_ , she admonishes. _Bad. Bad Stella._

She imagines his voice crooning those words to her. Probably deep and husky, and she bets he could whisper the most infernal things into her ears—

Stella grips her staff tighter, and rips her gaze away from him. Anything, _anything_ else would be better to think about. She zeroes back in on the conversation between her father and the royal family of Eraklyon.

“—and of course, we can discuss the trade deal during dinner,” her father politely states. “Thank you for your gift, King Erendor, it is as appreciated as your presence is tonight.”

“You flatter me,” King Erendor rumbles, but he hears the tone of dismissal in Radius’ voice. He bows, along with his family, and they descend from the altar as the next kingdom’s delegation walks up.

It’s the Kingdom of Domino.

Stella leaps up from her throne, decorum be damned, and rushes forward to embrace Bloom. Internally, she chides herself for not even realising that her best friend has entered the ballroom, but her focus is now entirely shifted, and she’s thankful for that.

“Oh my _goodness_ Bloom, you look amazing, how are you? We haven’t caught up in so long, it’s been _months_ since the last ball, Bloom, you _have_ to tell me where you got that dress, it’s stunning—”

“Ahem.”

Stella flushes as her father lets out a small cough. “Ah. My apologies.” She turns around to look at her father, ignoring Cassandra’s look of disgust and mustering up her best royal voice. “Is this our last delegation?” Radius nods. “Then if I may request a breach in decorum, I would like to speak to Princess Bloom separately.”

Cassandra frowns, but her father smiles. “Yes, Princess Stella, you may.” Stella squeals and drags Bloom away, their parents shaking their heads in laughter while Cassandra _tut-tuts_.

“So,” Bloom giggles, once Stella has found them a table at the corner of the ballroom, “I’m good! The past few months on Domino have been a little hectic, what with the upcoming Fire Festival, since my parents entrusted me to run it this time, but I’ve been good! How are you, Crown Princess?” Her eyes sparkle.

Stella groans. “Bloom, you _know_ I hate that title. Please. We’ve been friends our whole lives, you don’t need to bother with decorum. Anyway,” she smirks, “how goes the courtship with Prince _Sky_?” She draws out the last syllable, relishing in the way Bloom flushes at his name, her face almost matching the colouring of her hair.

“Don’t call it a courtship, Stella, this isn’t our grandparents’ generation. We’re dating. And it’s—good! Um, he visits every now and again… brings flowers… Eraklyon has the most gorgeous flowers, did you know? And he sends jewellery too, lovely pieces…” Bloom’s voice trails off, her hands touching the flame-shaped pendant hanging around her throat that Stella _knows_ Bloom hadn’t owned before.

“You are so smitten. It would be disgusting if it wasn’t so cute,” Stella pokes. Bloom giggles again, flushed.

“Well, _Crown Princess_ , don’t focus so much on my love life. What about yours? Which poor, young soul have you decided to toy with this time?”

Stella lets out an undignified snort. “Hm,” she muses, her eyes scanning the ballroom again. “There was one, a commoner from the city who I spent some time with a while ago, but otherwise… ah. There!”

Bloom follows her gaze, and frowns.

“Oh, no. Not your lovely prince, Bloom. The man _next_ to him. Brown hair, wicked smile, jawline that could slice your heart in two? Say, you visit Eraklyon often enough, don’t you? You know him.”

She sees Bloom’s face relax into a smile, and then a devious smirk. “Ah. Sky’s bodyguard.”

“Just _Sky_ now, is it? No more formalities? Damn, you move fast.”

Bloom flushes again, but the smirk doesn’t disappear from her face. “ _Anyway_. His name is Brandon, and he’s _Prince Sky’s_ bodyguard and best friend. If I recall correctly, he’s the adopted son of a viscountess and her wife—”

Stella cuts her off. “Brandon, you say? Would you know if _Lord Brandon_ happens to have a girlfriend?”

“Sir, Stella. He’s been knighted on Eraklyon, and you know how they’re a stickler for bloodlines. He’s not the legitimate heir to the viscountcy.”

“Yes, yes, I couldn’t give less of a _shit_ if he’s heir to anything. _Does he have a girlfriend_?”

Bloom rolls her eyes. “Watch your language, Crown Princess, the paparazzi is here. And I don’t know if he has a girlfriend, but he definitely has a bit of a reputation around him.”

“Mm, mind sharing what this reputation _is_?”

Bloom snickers. “Just look around at all the girls with their eyes on him. They’re even more interested in him that the Crown Prince of Eraklyon, and that’s saying something.”

“I’m sure you’re not complaining about that. No matter. I’ll manage.” Stella tilts her head. “Speaking of your crown prince, here he comes!”

Bloom seems momentarily startled, but she composes herself almost immediately. She waves to Sky, a smile playing across her lips, and Stella groans. _Love,_ she sighs to herself. _The sentiment is cute, but the idea is stupid. At least their marriage will be politically powerful._

She forces a smile as Sky bows to them. “Princess Stella, Princess Bloom. Pleasure to see you this evening.”

The girls stand up and curtsey. “The pleasure is mine, Prince Sky. It is always an honour to have you and your esteemed family on Solaria.” Stella rattles out the formality, but she can tell that Bloom and Sky are barely paying attention. “I will leave you alone, _lovebirds_.”

She whispers the last part, just in case the press catches on (although the courtship has been public knowledge for months), but she relishes in the way both of them flush a deep crimson.

As Stella walks away, leaving her two friends alone, she predicts how their night will go. Sky, ever the gentleman, will ask to dance with Bloom, and after the ball ends and most of the guests are asked to leave, the two of them will exchange glances at the dinner table as their parents discuss politics and trade deals and make meaningless small talk. Then, once dinner concludes and the Royal Majesties retire to their private suites for the night, Bloom and Sky will head to the royal gardens of Solaria, talking and laughing and dancing in the moonlight. They might share a kiss or two, but insistent on taking it slow, they’ll stop before they can go any further. Then he’ll offer her a gift, and she’ll accept it, blushing, and then they’ll go their separate ways.

 _Love_ , Stella thinks again, rolling her eyes. She’s long accepted that her father will probably arrange a powerful marriage for her, for the good of Solaria, but until then, she’s warranted her own fun. Love is frivolous, and at the end of the day, falling in love will only serve to hurt her. Better to focus on the physical aspects, and take what she can get.

And then she runs straight into a wall.

(Or at least, she thinks it’s a wall, but when she stumbles back, she’s met with tanned skin and a warm smile, and _oh_.)

“I’m so sorry, Princess Stella,” Brandon says, apology clear in his eyes. “I wasn’t watching where I was going. Are you hurt?”

She flushes. His voice is everything she’s imagined: strong, powerful, sinful. It takes her far too long to construct a coherent thought, and even longer to choke out a sentence. “I—no, I’m fine, thank you. Um.”

She can’t seem to grasp any of her usual flirting tactics. She’s never been this tongue-tied before, and that’s concerning to her.

“Still, I feel bad,” Brandon insists, and _oh no he’s a gentleman._ “Let me get you a drink?”

Her cheeks feel oddly warm. “That—yes, sure. Of course.”

He smiles at her. “It’s the least I can do for such a gorgeous girl, _Princess_.” He holds out an arm for her, and it’s only a lifetime of training in decorum that affords her enough presence of mind to accept it.

The walk to the bar is twenty metres at most, but it feels like forever. All Stella can focus on is the strength in his arm, the firmness of his muscles, and the warmth of where her skin contacts his. She needs to tamper down her heartbeat, because surely he can hear it almost jumping out of her chest like the traitorous little bastard it is right now.

When they finally reach the bar, he pulls out a chair for her, prompting her for her drink order, and she’s barely able to stammer out her usual to the bartender. The bartender glances between Stella and Brandon and her hand on his arm, and smirks at her.

 _Another one?_ he mouths, and Stella shrugs. The bartender laughs, then turns around to prepare the drinks. Suddenly, Stella is faced with Brandon’s full attention, and her heartbeat, which was just beginning to fall, begins to sprint again.

“So,” he drags out, clearly comfortable in his element, “to what do I owe the pleasure of the Princess of Solaria running headfirst into me?”

Stella huffs. At least her senses are returning to her, and she’s able to formulate a response. “I don’t even know your name.”

A blatant lie, but he doesn’t need to know that she’s been asking around about him. And anyway, she’s made him laugh, and she thinks that she enjoys the sound of his laughter, deep and warm and pure.

“Brandon. My name is Brandon,” he replies.

“Any title to go with that?” she quips back. “You are, after all, accompanying a royal delegation to a royal wedding.”

“So Sky was right, you _were_ watching me.” Stella opens her mouth to fight back, but he lifts a hand to silence her. For a second, all she can think about is the _audacity_ of him to stop a princess from talking, but he leans forward, and then she can’t _think_ , because he’s so close to her and if she just leaned forward, their lips would touch.

His breath ghosts across her face. “Sir Brandon, but for you, Princess, just Brandon works fine.”

And yes, Stella has been flirted with before, but the last time she was affected like this was years ago when she was a teenager, just learning the ins and outs of romance with her middle school friends. Awkward and ugly, she’d cracked under the first boy to show any sort of attraction to her. The relationship had fallen apart, fast, but she’d learned many things, and learned to weaponise the male gaze.

Everything she’s learned is being forgotten.

The drinks arrive, and she flashes a smile at the bartender, before focusing back on Brandon. “Alright then, _just Brandon_ , what else did _Sky_ say?”

He swirls his glass, a simple vodka tonic, and looks to the dance floor. Stella follows his gaze and spots Bloom and Sky doing some sort of ballroom dance, utterly lost in each others eyes. She grimaces, and takes a long drink.

“Well,” Brandon muses, and she can hear the smirk in his voice, “he said it wasn’t worth falling in love with you, pretty princess as you are, and I said I’d prove him wrong.”

Stella tilts her head, thinking, her eyes still riveted on the dancing couple. “Falling in love is certainly a stretch. But I promise, falling into bed would absolutely be worth it.”

She takes gratification in the choked noise he makes, turning around to witness the red that creeps up his neck and onto his cheeks. But just as quickly, he regains his composure, and in his eyes Stella can see a smouldering heat.

“Ah, my princess, but I am nothing if not a gentleman.” The song nears its end, and Brandon offers his hand to her. “May I have this dance?”

Stella smiles, and waves the bartender over. “Watch our drinks please,” she instructs, and the bartender inclines his head. She turns to Brandon, taking his hand. “Of course, _Sir_ , I would be delighted.”

And despite her hatred of all things official, she swears it’s the best dance she’s ever had.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first published fanfiction, and I hope I'll be able to update it regularly enough. Here's a mandatory "no, I don't have a beta". A few notes about this AU:
> 
> \- Domino was never destroyed, and Bloom was never sent to Earth  
> \- Alfea exists, but most royal fairies are trained on their own planets, so Stella and Bloom never go to Alfea  
> \- Red Fountain exists, but it's located on Eraklyon instead, for simplicity's sake  
> \- Fairies/Specialists/other species and roles aren't unnecessarily gendered and can have any gender identity  
> \- Witches still exist, and they may or may not show up later in the story  
> \- The rest of the Winx will show up at some point, probably, since this will likely be a long, multi-chaptered fanfic  
> \- The characters are aged up: at this point, Stella is in her early 20s  
> \- Cassandra ends up getting married to King Radius after all, since the witches don't intervene, but I didn't include Chimera for the simple reason that I forgot she existed
> 
> Note that at this point, I'm in the middle of a rewatch of Winx, but I'm only in the middle of Season 3, so if there are some canon things that I miss out or unintentionally erase, it's because of that.
> 
> Please leave comments or kudos if you're interested in seeing more! Also, I'm debating whether or not to attempt to write explicit smut in the next chapter, so let me know what you would prefer.
> 
> I'll try and update regularly, but no promises.
> 
> My (really dead) tumblr is [not-actually-smart](https://not-actually-smart.tumblr.com/) if you want to contact me for whatever reason.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
